Dumbledore's Man Through and Through
by Raven3182
Summary: Young Tom Riddle watches Dumbledore set his wardrobe on fire and thinks it's the coolest thing ever. From then on, Tom idolizes Dumbledore and becomes his teacher's pet. Dumbledore has no idea of how to deal with this. A Crack!fic-esque series of short, comedic scenes.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling. I am not a British woman who makes **_**interesting **_**statements on Twitter about her works long after they have been published. Thus I do not own nor do I claim ownership of Harry Potter, and I am not profiting in any way through the writing and publication of this story.**

* * *

Dumbledore's Man Through and Through

Prologue

Albus Percival Wolfric Brian Dumbledore was a little apprehensive as he slowly ascended the stairs of Wool's Orphanage. He was there to deliver a Hogwarts admission letter to a Muggle-raised boy, one Tom Marvolo Riddle.

Mrs. Cole, the skinny, sharp-faced woman who ran the orphanage, had had little good to say about the boy. They'd spoken for a few minutes after he'd arrived about what he'd lead her to believe was an offer to see to young Mr. Riddle's schooling. The story was that a very distant relative, who had recently heard of the poor boy's plight, had apparently decided to be generous. At first, the put-upon woman seemed almost eager to be rid of the boy, and after only a few minutes of conversation, Albus could easily see why.

The boy might very well be dangerous. Only eleven years old and already showing great magical ability – not only in very strong bouts of accidental magic, but, from what Mrs. Cole had said, it seemed apparent that the child could already preform a certain level of _purposeful _and _controlled_ wandless magic.

And the fact that he'd used those talents to frighten, harass, and steal from the other orphans did not bode well.

Albus didn't need another Gellert to worry about.

He reached the top of the stairs and made his way down the dimly-lit hallway, the old floor boards groaning loudly beneath his feet. He paused outside a door to which a tiny scrap of paper had been pinned, bearing very precise handwriting that spelled out, "T. M. Riddle."

He knocked three times in quick succession.

A moment later the door was wrenched open, and Albus had his first glimpse of a handsome young boy with dark hair and cold, hard eyes.

The boy merely raised one eyebrow at his unexpected visitor.

"Good day, Mr. Riddle," Albus eventually began, "my name is Professor Albus Dumbledore. I'm a teacher at a rather _peculiar_ school, one in which you might find yourself enrolled, if you are fortunate. Might I trouble you for a moment of your time?"

The boy seemed to carefully weigh the words he'd just heard before stepping back, and allowing the visitor into his room. Dumbledore took a seat upon the room's only chair, while the boy closed the door and then sat on the edge of the bed.

Albus considered the child for a moment. He seemed to hold himself in a constant state of tension, like a tightly-wound spring, ready to act or react, perhaps violently, if the situation suddenly merited such action.

"Before we get to the matter of your schooling, I'd like to clear the air about something that Mrs. Cole disclosed to me."

The boy narrowed his eyes at the mention of the matron who ran the orphanage.

"You see," Dumbledore continued, "she's let me know that you haven't shown the best behavior during your time here at Wool's. I'll have you know right now that misbehavior such as frightening other children or stealing from them will not be tolerated at Hogwarts, Mr. Riddle. So, before we go any further, I'll have your word that such behavior will cease from this moment forth."

The boy seemed to glare hatefully at him. Albus was quite sure that if looks could kill, he'd be six feet under by now.

"Fine," the boy finally said. "You have it."

"Good. With that out of the way, this is yours, then."

He reached into his pocket and drew forth a parchment envelop, sealed with purple wax, and addressed in green ink to "Tom Marvolo Riddle, Wool's Orphanage, London," and quickly handed it over.

The boy inspected it carefully before gently breaking the seal and hastily reading both the letter and the list of necessary school supplies. He eventually looked back up at Dumbledore.

"Magic?"

"That's right."

"Witchcraft and wizardry?

"Indeed."

"Are you here to take me to the asylum?"

Dumbledore smiled in a way that he hoped would come off as kindly while also pushing just a bit of magic into his eyes.

Everyone enjoyed a good twinkle.

"Merlin no. I assure you, magic is quite real. You're not crazy. I've heard from Mrs. Cole that you've been able to do some rather remarkable things, even without any formal training. You have the makings of a powerful wizard – if you go about it properly and stay on the right path, of course."

The boy again seemed to carefully weigh what he was hearing.

"Prove it."

"Pardon?"

"Prove to me that you're not from the asylum," he said. "Prove that magic really does exist. Do some, right here and now. And no parlor tricks."

Albus smiled and extracted his wand from the magically expanded pocket of his Muggle suit. He leveled it at the wardrobe – the only piece of furniture in the room apart from the bed, the chair, and a rather fragile looking trunk, and said one word.

"_Incendio!_"

With a thunderous roar and a flash of heat and light, the wardrobe was engulfed in crimson flame.

The boy jumped in surprise and fell to the floor, quickly scampering back against the wall, putting as much distance as he could between himself and the inferno that a moment before had been his wardrobe.

With a casual wave of his wand, Albus snuffed out the fire. Perhaps that had been a bit too much…

"That," the boy began as he turned his very wide eyes to look at Albus, "was AWESOME!"

What?

"How did you do that?"

"I—"

"Can you teach _me_ to do that?!"

"Well that spell is taught in your—"

"You must be the most powerful wizard in the world!"

"Well, I don't know—"

"I'm going to be just like you when I grow up!"

"Really now—"

"You're probably the smartest professor at the whole school!"

"Mr. Riddle—"

"Hogwarts is a silly name, they should really call it: Dumbledore's Academy!"

"Now really—"

"Please tell me I can go there with you? _Please?!_"

"Yes, yes, Mr. Riddle, you can come to Hogwarts. That's why I'm here after all."

"This is going to be so much fun! I'm going to learn so much magic, and you're going to teach it all to me, and then we'll be partners and the best wizards who've ever lived!"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, now, Mr. Riddle."

"But where do I get all these things on the supply list? I've never heard of half of this…"

"Not to worry, I'd be happy to take you on a trip to Diagon Alley. And don't worry about the cost, the school has a fund to help cover the supplies of students in need."

The boy – Tom – looked up at Albus with tears brimming in his eyes. His face looked almost… worshipful.

"You'd do that? For me?"

Albus signed internally. He could already tell – Tom Riddle was going to make his life rather interesting from here on out.

"Yes, Mr. Riddle, I'd be happy to introduce you to the world of magical Britain."

"This is the best day of my life! I'll do you proud, sir. You'll see. I promise. One day you'll look back on this day and say to yourself, this was the moment it all started!"

Albus thought that those words felt rather heavy, like they almost had an air of prophecy about them.

"Err… one last thing…"

"Yes, Mr. Riddle?"

"Are you _absolutely_ certain that I'm not allowed to frighten the other students? Not even a little bit?"

Dumbledore sighed and closed his eyes.

"Okay! Okay!" Tom backtracked. "I just thought I'd check. I'm sure we'll find a way around it…"

Yes, Tom Riddle was definitely going to make his life rather interesting.

* * *

**So, the idea is that, after seeing him perform the first bit of real magic he'd ever seen, which just so happened to be effortlessly **_**setting something on fire,**_** Tom Riddle thinks that Dumbledore is the best thing since sliced bread. And since the above took place in 1938 and sliced bread was only invented in 1928, the awesomeness of that invention was still fresh in people's minds, so that really says something about what Tom thinks about old Dumbledore.**

**This will be more like a Crack!fic series of loosely related scenes than an actual coherent story. It's meant to be funny. Hopefully someone will laugh.**

**Special thanks to u/naidhe form the Harry Potter Fanfiction subreddit (r/HPfanfiction) who proposed this idea and got my brain thinking about it. Naidhe has actually posted their own version of this idea on Archive of Our Own, so you should head over to AO3 and check out _A Mentor's Burden_ by Naidhe. I'd post a link but FFN doesn't allow for that. Update! Naidhe has also posted it here on FFN as well - same title and author name.**

**And don't worry, I'm still working on **_**Holocron**_** which will remain my focus. This is just a plot bunny that is meant to amuse me (and you) every now and then.**

**So, what do you think? Leave a review and let me know! Thanks for reading!**


	2. Houses

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling. I am not a British woman who makes **_**interesting**_** statements on Twitter about her works long after they have been published. Thus I do not own nor do I claim ownership of Harry Potter, and I am not profiting in any way through the writing and publication of this story.**

* * *

Dumbledore's Man Through and Through

Houses

Dumbledore looked up at the knock on his door.

Now who could that be at 11:00 pm on September the first? It was still the first day of the year! There hadn't been enough time for any troubles to rear their heads yet. And he'd just managed to slip on his favorite fuzzy slippers too. (They looked like stuffed dragons, and he'd charmed them himself to have little wisps of smoke come out of the nostrils whenever he took a step.)

But there was nothing for it, so he walked over to the door and pulled it open.

"Mr. Riddle?" he asked in surprise at seeing the new first-year student. "What on earth are you doing out of your dormitory this late past curfew?"

Tom looked up at him with such sorrow in his eyes that it almost made Albus reconsider everything he'd ever thought about the boy.

Almost.

Tom couldn't really pull off the sorrowful look very well. It came off more as sadly-angry.

"And how in Merlin's name did you manage to find the faculty apartments on your first evening here?"

Tom waved the question away.

"Could I have a word with you, Professor Dumbledore, sir? I just… I needed to talk with someone."

Albus sighed and gestured in the direction of his little sitting room.

"Come in, my boy."

Tom strode into the room and seated himself on the couch. Albus flicked his wand and produced an exceedingly comfortable armchair.

"Could you teach me that?" Tom asked.

"Perhaps another time," Albus answered with a smile. "Now then, what seems to be the problem? And why haven't you taken it to Professor Slughorn? He is your new head of house, after all."

"Well that's just it," Tom said as he glanced down with disdain at the green trim that now decorated his robes, "I don't want him to be my head of house. I don't want to be in Slytherin. I wanted to be in Gryffindor, like you were!"

"Ah. I see."

"Is there any way I can switch houses?"

"I'm afraid not, Mr. Riddle."

"In that case, what's the best way to destroy an ancient, telepathic hat?"

Albus closed his eyes and sighed. He'd been doing that rather often of late whenever the boy was nearby.

"Mr. Riddle, you may in _no_ way, shape, or form, _ever_ try to carry out _any_ sort of vengeance upon the Sorting Hat. It is an ancient artifact of the Four Founders – as old and important as Hogwarts itself. And it is _not_ to be harmed."

Tom narrowed his eyes for a moment before looking down to the ground.

"Fine."

"Alright then."

"I still don't want to be a Slytherin."

Albus looked at the sad, eleven year-old boy before him. The child needed some encouragement.

"Mr. Riddle, Tom, your house while here at Hogwarts is an important thing, but it's not the only important thing about being a student here. Don't look at it as a limitation on you. Perhaps you might've made an excellent Gryffindor, but the Hat saw something else in you, something that would one day shine all the brighter if only you allowed the gifts that Slytherin House can foster to emerge. I'm sure I would have been proud to have you in my house, but I'm also sure that _you_ will one day make Slytherin House very proud indeed."

He finished by pushing just a tiny bit of magic into his eyes – a little bit of twinkle always helped.

Tom looked up at Dumbledore with wide, glistening eyes.

"Will you be my dad?"

"Ahh…"

"What if I promise not to torture anybody?"

"What was that?"

"Never mind!" Tom said as he sprang up off the couch and headed for the door. "Forget I said anything!"

"Mr. Riddle!"

But the boy was already sprinting off toward the dungeons.

"Nice slippers by the way!"

What?

* * *

**AN: Thoughts?**

**Thanks for your reviews, and thanks for reading!**


	3. Young, Eager Minds

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling. I am not a British woman who makes **_**interesting**_** statements on Twitter about her works long after they have been published. Thus I do not own nor do I claim ownership of Harry Potter, and I am not profiting in any way through the writing and publication of this story.**

* * *

Dumbledore's Man Through and Through

Young, Eager Minds

Dumbledore smiled softly to himself as he watched the second-year Ravenclaw and Slytherin students file into his Transfiguration classroom. Teaching such eager, young minds was always a joy.

"Would you like a lemon drop?"

He turned toward the door to see who had decided to be kind enough to share sweets with their fellow students.

But then he did a double take, his eyes almost popping out of his head.

There was young Tom Riddle in the doorway - dressed in rather splendid (in Dumbledore's mind) purple robes decorated with orange stars and yellow crescent moons.

"Lemon drop?" Tom asked again, extending a bag of sweets to young Myrtle Warren.

The girl grimaced and looked at Tom with suspicion.

"What did you do to them this time?"

"Nothing! Slytherin's honor!"

"Hmpf!" Myrtle exclaimed before striding off to her seat.

Tom turned and his eye's met Dumbledore's, and huge grin broke out on the boy's face.

"Professor Dumbledore! Care for a lemon drop?"

"I... err..." Ablus stammered.

"I sent away for them by special owl order!"

Albus automatically reached for a sweet and popped it into his mouth. They were is favorite after all.

"Mr. Riddle," he began once his brain started working again, "what have you done to your uniform?"

"Well," the young Slytherin started, "after you taught us those excellent color-changing spells last week, I figured that I would make my robes into something more stylish."

"I see."

"That reminds me..."

"Yes?"

"How do I learn to make my eyes twinkle on demand? I think that might be a good way for me to sow confusion amongst my enemies..."

Dumbledore sighed internally.

"Please take your seat, Mr. Riddle."

* * *

**AN: This one was originally posted on Reddit, but I thought those should go here as well.**

**Thoughts?**

**Happy Easter!**

**Thanks for your reviews, and thanks for reading!**


	4. Dominance

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling. I am not a British woman who makes **_**interesting**_** statements on Twitter about her works long after they have been published. Thus I do not own nor do I claim ownership of Harry Potter, and I am not profiting in any way through the writing and publication of this story.**

**AN: Remember – this story makes no sense and the chapters aren't necessarily in any sort of order.**

* * *

Dumbledore's Man Through and Through

Dominance

Dumbledore glanced at his wristwatch for the hundredth time as he waited for young Tom Riddle to finish perusing the shelves in Flourish and Blotts. It shouldn't have taken this long to purchase what was needed for a new first-year student, but the boy had insisted on being allowed to spend some time looking through the stacks and stacks of books, even if he had no means of purchasing them.

He glanced back up and watched as Tom reached up onto his tippy toes so he could pull down a rather thicker-than-average tome. He then settled it on the floor before lying down next to it, and began flipping through the pages.

Albus caught a quick glance at the title page: _Curses Moste Foul by Roos Terr_.

Right. That was enough of that.

"I don't think that book is quite appropriate for a young wizard such as yourself, Mr. Riddle."

The boy's face flashed through a few emotions in less than a second - anger, uncertainty, fear - before settling on a rather unconvincing contrite pout.

"Awww…" he whined, "but it looked so interesting…"

"Perhaps when you're older."

"Do you think it might've had a spell that would've turned someone into a chicken?"

Albus furrowed his eyebrows.

"Why would you ever need a spell like that?"

"Dunno. Might be useful."

"Useful?"

"Sure. Or, you know, entertaining."

"Ah. Well, there will be no turning your fellow students into birds while you're at Hogwarts, Mr. Riddle."

"Right. Gotcha," Tom said with an understanding nod. "No turning people into _birds_."

Albus sighed and closed his eyes.

"Perhaps we might continue onwards to our next stop?"

"Okay, sir!"

Together they left the bookstore and turned left, making their way towards Ollivander's shop. After only a few steps, however, they ran into a group of fourth-year Ravenclaws, likely there to get their own shopping accomplished.

"Lookit that, Pete," a tall, gangly boy that Albus knew as Walter McCreevey said, "Dumbledore's found himself a Muggle!"

"Quite a bit of dirt on this one, too!" Peter Tavish joined in.

"It's mighty good of the old man to buy the beast some proper clothes," said Evelyn Booth.

Together they laughed at their less-than witty jokes made at Tom's expense.

Albus was about to attempt to discipline them (there were only so many threats one could make outside of school) when Tom crouched down, bared his teeth and hissed.

"HCSHSHHHHH!"

"Gah!" they shouted as they jumped back.

Albus had to stop himself from recoiling as well. That was just… odd.

He then barely managed to reach out and grab Tom by the back of his collar just as the boy started to throw himself at the older children.

"What the bloody hell is wrong with that kid?" Mr. Tavish, now sporting wide, fearful eyes, asked.

"Misters McCreevey and Tavish, Miss Booth," Albus began while maintaining an ironclad grip on the back of Tom's shirt, who, meanwhile, continued hissing and spitting and trying to throw himself at the other children, "you should know better than to harass a younger student. I'm very disappointed in the three of you. You may expect to each serve a detention with me during the first week of the coming term."

They managed to look contrite enough about their actions. Or maybe they were just concerned about the apparently feral child that Dumbledore was escorting through the alley.

"Be on with your business," he dismissed them.

Once they were gone, Tom settled down.

"And just what was that display supposed to be, Mr. Riddle?"

"Dominance," the boy replied.

"Pardon?"

"They tried to exert their dominance over me. So I, instead, exerted _my_ dominance over _them_."

"I see."

"It's just the way people work."

"Is it, now?"

"Plus, I was going to gouge at their eyes a little bit."

Albus sighed once again.

"Mr. Riddle," he began, "there will be no gouging of eyes while you're at Hogwarts."

Tom just stared at his chaperone for a long moment before nodding in understanding.

"I understand, sir. I promise, I will not gouge any _eyes_ while I'm _at Hogwarts_."

He finished by knowingly tapping the side of his nose with his index finger.

Albus sighed again and resumed walking, but he diverted them to a different destination.

"Perhaps we might stop by the Magical Menagerie. You are permitted to bring a familiar with you to Hogwarts if you so choose."

Caring for a pet might do the boy some good.

"Really?! That would be great!" Tom said.

Albus smiled. Maybe it wouldn't be so hard to set this boy along the right path after all.

"I could really use another snake. Bobby Figgins killed my last one after I told it to bite his face. It'd be good to have that option on hand again. Besides, snakes make excellent conversationalists."

On second thought, maybe a pet wasn't the best idea.

* * *

**AN: Thoughts?**

**Thanks for your reviews, and thanks for reading!**


	5. Something Rather Delicate

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling. I am not a British woman who makes **_**interesting**_** statements on Twitter about her works long after they have been published. Thus I do not own nor do I claim ownership of Harry Potter, and I am not profiting in any way through the writing and publication of this story.**

* * *

Dumbledore's Man Through and Through

Something Rather Delicate

Dumbledore looked up from grading the abominable stack of third-year essays (Merlin bless the Hufflepuffs – they tried… they really did…). Who would be knocking on his door at this hour—oh.

He sighed and waved his wand, opening the door.

"Come in, Mr. Riddle."

"Professor Dumbledore, sir!" the handsome, sixth-year Slytherin said as he entered the room. "Thanks for seeing me."

"You know I'm always available to my students," he said. _Even if they did insist on visiting three times every day,_ he mentally continued.

Dumbledore eyed the uneven patch of fuzz on the boy's chin. He was obviously trying to grow a beard, but like most teenagers who did so, he merely managed to look ridiculous in the attempt.

Tom glanced at the wooden stool in front of the Transfiguration professor's desk before waving his wand and transforming it into a comfortable-looking, stuffed arm chair. Exactly like the one Albus was currently occupying.

"Who taught you that spell?" he asked.

"Oh, you know. I just found it somewhere…"

Dumbledore narrowed his eyes. He'd invented the Comfy Chair Conjuration himself, and he'd never shared it with anyone. How had Tom managed to discern that secret…?

"Anyways," the boy began, "I wanted to speak to you about something rather… delicate."

"Oh?" Albus asked as his bushy eyebrows merged with his graying hair.

"Yes, you see, I've been doing a bit of research, and I came across a term that I'm not very familiar with. Sir, do you know, what, exactly, a 'horcrux' is?"

"Mr. Riddle," Dumbledore said with more than a little steel in his voice, "where did you come across that word?"

"Just in some reading. No need to worry, I won't go blabbing about it to the rest of the students, nor even to any of the other professors. But I thought you might understand…"

Dumbledore closed his eyes and tried to stave off the headache he could feel coming on.

"Mr. Riddle," he began after a moment, "horcuxes are one of the foulest, darkest works of sorcery to have ever been invented. Of all they ways in which wizards have tried to achieve immortality, they are by far the worst."

"Hmmm…"

"Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you, Mr. Riddle?"

"I think so…"

"Good."

Maybe the boy was finally learning a bit of sense.

"In that case, professor, tell me about these other ways of achieving immortality."

Dumbledore closed his eyes and let his head fall to the desk in front of him with a dull thud.

Why couldn't the Riddle boy bother Horace with these infernal questions?

* * *

**AN: Thoughts?**

**Thanks for reading and thanks for your reviews!**


	6. Minions

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling. I am not a British woman who makes **_**interesting**_** statements on Twitter about her works long after they have been published. Thus I do not own nor do I claim ownership of Harry Potter, and I am not profiting in any way through the writing and publication of this story.**

* * *

Dumbledore's Man Through and Through

Minions

Tom sat upon his new throne, his eyes cast out among the witches and wizards who had just sworn themselves to his cause, who had branded themselves with his mark, who would now, from this day forward, live or die to further his will.

He smiled, this was truly a great day for Britain – history would look back and count this as the dawn of a new era…

"Ummm…"

Tom glanced over to Bellatrix Black, who was fidgeting off to the side.

"What is it, Bella?" he asked.

"It's just, well…"

"Spit it out!"

"Are you sure about these uniforms?"

"Yeah," Rudolfus added, "wouldn't something like, I don't know, black robes with skull masks be scarier?"

"There's nothing wrong with pink and green!" Tom answered. "Some would say it's quite fashionable."

"Only an idiot like Dumbledore would think that," Lucius mumbled.

"What was that?!"

"Nothing!"

"And my lord…"

"What now, Bella?"

"The fake beards… are they really necessary?"

"I've already told you, once you've grown a beard long enough to be tucked into your belt, you can dispense with the false one!"

"But it's just going to get in the way of spell casting!" Lucius whined.

Tom narrowed his eyes in a glare.

"Crucio!"

"Gah!" Lucius flopped to the ground.

"Do not deign to question me!" Tom declared, rising from his seat. "I am Lord Alvus Preston Wolfgang Thomas Voldemort!"


End file.
